


In Darkness Wandering

by allonsytotumblr



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Death, POV First Person, Reunions, Sorrow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:51:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1889070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsytotumblr/pseuds/allonsytotumblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morwen meets Húrin again before her death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Darkness Wandering

I have journeyed for so long. So long walking this path seeking my children. But had I known what lay at its end, not my kin found at last, not light or hope, but this, this cold, gray, lifeless stone. My eyes trace the words again. 

Túrin Turambar, Master of Doom, it reads and yet you could not master death.

Nienor Níniel, Maid of Tears, was you fate still sorrowful after I lost you that hellish night with Glaurung?

Why do their names stand side-by-side? Did they meet ere death? Or in death only are they united? But none answer me.  
Anguish seems to rend my heart; I cannot turn away and yet, I do not weep. Would that I had died a thrall in Hithlum, a happier fate than that which is now mine, to mourn for husband, daughters and son.  


A sunrise and a sunset have I kept a sort of vigil here, my voice uplifted in lament for these taken from me. The sun has begun to set again. I wish it would not for in shadow my grief is sharper and my sorrow more immense. The elves do not fear the dark, for, they say, only in darkness can the stars be seen. But darkness is cold and dead, faraway starlight gives no warmth.

My strength is nearly gone; death is close but it does not take my yet. I am I waiting for something perhaps. What action is yet unfulfilled? I do not know and cannot guess.

Perceiving some figure coming to stand at the base of the stone at which I sit, I draw my hood over my face, and gaze downward. But back my cloak is cast, by some foul wind and lifting my hand to pull it down once more, I behold the stranger in front of me. Tall, sorrow-hardened but not withered as I, his eyes lit with recognition.

Húrin.

How? I thought him dead but yet he lives! Alas that our paths should cross with mine so near its end.

"You are too late, they are lost." I speak bitterly.

Kneeling down beside me he says," The road was dark, I have come as I could. And you, Mowen, you are not."

"I am almost. When the light is gone I shall be also."

And so we sit, in silence, watching the sky turn vivid orange, blood red and fiery gold. The sun is departing and my time here wanes. I try to speak, to tell Húrin that I am sorry that we must meet like this at the graves of our children, that I must leave him now.

As I begin he cuts me off, "Hush, I know what you would say. But tell me Morwen Eledhwen, when I come to those halls beyond the western sky, where all men must go, will you be there waiting me?"

In my final words I promise, "Yes that we may depart world and together go to seek them."

All has been said. This day ends and with it I.

I clasp his hand, sigh and turning my face to the brilliant, sinking sun, I sleep.

**Author's Note:**

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